


'You made it all okay'

by resistance



Series: How To Say 'I Love You' [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ezekiel Jones Remembers, Hurt/Comfort, Jacob stone can't express his feelings, M/M, Neither can Ezekiel Jones, Post-Episode: s02e08 And the Point of Salvation, author projects onto characters way too much, ways to say I love you series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resistance/pseuds/resistance
Summary: Ezekiel breaks down in the Annexe, hidden between the bookshelves. He looks haggard- like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders"Remember when I broke down in the eighteenth-century literature section? You grabbed my hand and dragged me into the nearest bathroom and you just... let me vent." Tears made his cocoa eyes shimmer in the worst way, and his voice broke when he next spoke. "I think... I think I need you to do that again,"





	'You made it all okay'

**Author's Note:**

> This happened to me not too long ago, and my best friend of ten years was there to make it all okay. So naturally, I projected my feelings onto a character and now I'm making a series out of it. 
> 
> Yay?
> 
> THERE ARE MENTIONS OF PTSD AND SOME VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER (it's minor, not overly graphic, but does talk about blood and stuff) SO PLEASE BE CAREFUL WHEN READING

He couldn't handle it. 

There was so much on his shoulders, a heavy weight on his chest, tears building up behind his eyes that _just wouldn't fall_. He was tired and scared and upset and _nothing_ was going right. Ezekiel was at his breaking point. 

And he broke. 

Unnoticed (yet again), Ezekiel slips away from the others and into the stacks, crumpling to the floor and holding his knees to his chest. He clamps a hand over his mouth as tears spill over his cheeks, dripping over his fingers and down his face. He sits alone, as he always has been, and cries to himself, hiding sobs behind silent shudders. He'd learnt early on that if you showed no vulnerability, you soon started to believe yourself. Ezekiel Jones was the physical embodiment of _'fake it 'till you make it'_

But his mask was cracking, his fabricated happiness tearing at the seams like cheap thread. 

He tries to blink the tears away, but with every closing of his eyes, he sees the glowing red eyes of the rage people, the sickening scarlet that oozed from his friends' lifeless bodies. He wants to vomit. His hands shake violently, the salty tears stinging his nails- bitten down to the quick. 

"Jones? You in here?" 

A familiar southern accent. He'd heard that voice scream his name so many times, trying to warn him about the oncoming threat- watched the life fade out of those glacial eyes more times than he can count. That voice felt like nails on a chalkboard in his head. He buries his face in his knees, hands clasped behind his head, arms pressed against his ears to block out the sounds around him.

It's too loud.

Too much. 

Too soon. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, and then forces them open again, terrified of what he might see if he were to let them flicker shut. 

"Ezekiel?" 

Calloused hands gently grasp his wrists, pulling his arms down towards the floor. "Hey, it's alright, I've got ya," 

Ezekiel slowly shakes his head, not lifting his gaze, not bothering to try and stop the tears that are still falling from his mahogany eyes. 

Jacob looks slightly surprised- the only time he'd ever seen the thief this broken was in the video game. But he didn't remember that. Did he?

"What's wrong, Jones?" he asks, trying to make eye-contact with the broken boy. Ezekiel won't meet his gaze. 

When he doesn't get an answer, Jake takes Ezekiel's hands in his own, running circles in his palms with his thumbs- something he had picked up from Baird whenever they were in high-strung situations that required a level head. It was calming, or something- she had told him the science side of it, but he was a bit preoccupied with the angry faeries that were attacking them.

He doesn't speak, waiting for Ezekiel to answer in his own time. 

 

"Remember when I broke down in the eighteenth-century literature section?" Ezekiel asked, avoiding Jake's question. 

Jake nods solemnly. That had been a turning point between the two of them; something that chipped away at the frosty 'rivalry' they had formed

Ezekiel looks straight ahead, not seeing Jacob before him. He laughs, and it's a hollow, hopeless _'ha'_. 

"You grabbed my hand and dragged me into the nearest bathroom and you just... let me get it out." His cocoa eyes shimmer in the worst way, and his voice breaks when he next speaks. "I think... I think I need you to do that again,"

Jake, without another word, nods his head solemnly and sits beside the thief, resting his head back against the bookshelves behind him. 

"I still see them." Ezekiel murmurs, his words struggling around the lump in his throat. "I still see you. All of you,"

Jake looks confused. "Who do you see, Ezekiel?" 

Flashes of bloody fangs and neon eyes flicker behind the eyelids of Ezekiel's now closed eyes.

"I tried to save you... I- I tried so hard- and- and I couldn't do it. I couldn't... I couldn't keep you all safe," he whispers, his quiet resolve crumbling away. Jake knows what he's talking about- he's heard those broken whispers before. 

"You did do it, Ezekiel," he says softly, placing one hand on Ezekiel's cheek with a featherlight touch. "We're all here, living, breathing," 

The thief goes quiet again, so Jacob resumes talking. 

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Jones." 

Ezekiel scoffs.

"I'm serious. Over the past year, you've taken on things that would send other people running the other way in an instant. You- you got turned into a werewolf and all you did was make sure everyone was okay first. You didn't care that you were changing- you wanted to make sure everyone was safe. You, Ezekiel Jones, have saved our asses more times than any of us can count, and so this- this whole thing your brain is telling you? About how you couldn't save us? It's a lie. Because you did save us, Jones. You did," 

more tears were dripping from Ezekiel's eyes, his face a sheet of pure pain. Jake continues to talk. 

"Had Baird told you the story about the soldiers in the pontoon boats?" Jacob asks, turning his head to face the man beside him.

Ezekiel nods, not opening his eyes. His head was tilted back so that if he had his eyes open, he would be staring at the ceiling. "She... She told me about it in the game loop. I'd heard it over and over, but I listened to it anyways,"  he admitted, somewhat abashed. "I just-"

"Liked the way she looked at you when she told it?" 

Another nod. "Yeah." 

The two lapse into silence, the sound of their breathing and the clinking from Jenkins' lab being the only thing to be heard between them. 

Jacob sighs.

"I know you're scared. Scared of opening your eyes and seeing the game again. Scared of losing the team. But you have every right to be scared, goddammit, because you've lived through things that would flatten even the strongest soldiers.  You're scared that you won't be able to help people in the future because you didn't save us. But you did save us, Ezekiel. You saved every single one of us," 

Wordlessly, Ezekiel shuffles closer to the Historian, leaning to the side and resting his head on Jake's shoulder. He can feel Jake resting his head atop of his own- it's oddly comforting. 

"I saved you?" he whispers, feeling some of the weight on his chest lift. 

Jacob nods once, holding his hand flat against his thigh in an open invitation for Ezekiel to hold it. He does, intertwining their fingers.

"I saved all of you." 

Jake lifts their interlocked hands and presses a gentle kiss to Ezekiel's knuckles. 

"Yeah. Yeah, you did,"

 

 

 

 


End file.
